American Slang
by The BatThing
Summary: Damian has some questions, Dick has some answers, but Jason just is.


**American Slang**

 **By** : Cas

* * *

Dick Grayson was extremely grateful to find a refrigerator stock piled with food. Not _just_ food, but amazing, delicious, better-than-take-out food. He took his time rummaging through every single item, thoughtlessly using his fingers to sample and hoping nobody would walk in. His family had this _weird_ thing about sharing food. There were rules like no double dipping, no touching others food, no drinking straight from the communal gallon of milk … shit like that.

He was in the middle of slicking his finger through a Tupperware of some pudding when the door banged open and Damian Wayne entered. The ten year old instantly caught sight of Dick, finger in mouth, and glared. "Don't you **dare** return those items! Throw them out at once." The boy was carrying a notepad and a pen, as if he had come to take inventory.

"Come on, Dami, I'm the _only_ universal donor in the family. You _all_ are already sharing my blood. What's the harm in sharing food?" This argument never worked, but it didn't stop Dick from using it each and every time.

"Blood is not saliva!"

"Whatever." Dick popped the lid back on the pudding and shrugged. "More for me."

"Did you use your vile fingers to sample anything else?"

The lie was easy. "Nope."

Damian fell into an elongated silence before speaking again. When he did the words were harsh and to the point. "You're an American … so to speak."

The question was unexpected and made Dick still for a moment. A slow, calculating smile drew across his face. "You think?"

All at once Damian took the bait. "I am aware you are also Romani, whatever _that_ is-."

" _HEY_!"

"-But you now have citizenship here, not to mention fit the demographic." The smaller figure instantly began to ticking off his fingers with each word, as if he had to keep count. "Ignorant, fat, loud, exuberant with emotions, think you're always right, hated by most … that's only six, need I go on?"

"You think I'm _fat_?!"

Damian stared at the pudding.

"Hey! I just wanted a slick. You're the one making me take it home!" Dick couldn't help but laugh. "Is this going somewhere, or are you just out to insult me?"

Damian glanced at his notepad for a moment and then back to his older brother. "Not just myself. The whole _world_ views you that way."

"What, me personally?"

"Anyhow, I need a translation done in secret, and if you do as I say I won't tell Alfred what I've witnessed here." He made a pointed look to the refrigerator.

Dick's amusement still held but curiosity took a sudden spike and he leaned over the countertop, interested. "Is that right? Ok. You have a deal." He made a gesture as if zipping his lips. "No communicado."

"It's incommunicado, and you know it!"

"Come on, just give me your notes already."

Damian hesitated a few seconds before relinquishing them. Though once they were in Dick's hands he folded his arms against his chest and averted his eyes. "I figured out what a John Hancock was instantly, I'll have you know, as well as Benjis. I do have an _extensive_ education."

Dick wanted to frame the list of words and scribbles and take it home. It read as such: 1. Kicks 2. Take a rain check 3. Jonesing 4. Boonies 5. Bought the farm 6. Drake is an idiot. "Oh." Dick began. He jotted down definitions for each slang word or phrase as he spoke. "Timmy been dropping a lot of these on you?"

"Tt."

"Kicks are shoes, a rain check means maybe another time, jonesing is an addicts kind of longing, boonies mean off the beaten path, and bought the farm … means dead or gone or something … not too sure on that one. As for number six, I think you're confusing 'an idiot' with 'my big brother'."

Damian snatched the paper away from Dick. "I assure you I did not."

Dick just gave a goofy smile as he rolled his eyes.

"Just so you know, I am not completely recused from American slang. It's simply that my English speaking tutors were highly educated and therefore European!"

"Sure, sure."

Damian's temper seemed to rise. "I will also remind you that you were once a Romani wharf who knew even less than l about this horrid country." His eyes shot to the kitchen door. The sound of heavy footsteps were drawing near, equaling either father or Todd, but the stride of slightly dragging feet narrowed it down to …

Jason opened the door as Dick replied to Damian. "In **that** case you're in trouble of becoming even more American than I already am."

"كل هواء."

Dick's brain took in the words and rolled them over as he carefully ran through his Arabian inventory to translate. "Kol hawa, huh?" He easily deflected to his native tongue. "Well, Kaka rocka nixis."

Jason considered them both for a moment. "Here's an idea. Why don't you both piss off?" He stomped over to the fridge and pulled out various containers, unaware that Dick's fingers had been all over the items of interest.

Damian and Dick shared and look for a moment as if in silent agreement, and the elder spoke. "Now _**that's** _an American."

No answer was required but Jason straightened up and threw a dirty look over his shoulder. "Damn straight, and proud of it!"

 **END**

كل هواء / kol hawa (Eat air) Arabic

Kaka rocka nixis. (Be quiet.) Romani

Piss off. (Piss off) ;) English

All are slang for 'shut-up'.

1\. I love the different nationalities displayed in Batman.


End file.
